Haunted
by BlueKitsunebi
Summary: Sasuke wasn't thrilled when his family moved into their new house. He was even less thrilled to discover that the previous occupant hadn't truly left. Sasusaku supernatural. (In the process of being rewritten. Chapters will be added when I update them from my older, original story). Rated M for some dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

 _A fallen leaf skims_

 _the silk surface of a pond;_

 _Ripples turn to waves._

* * *

Chapter One

Something wasn't quite right about the house.

On the outside there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. It was a simple, modest structure with just enough bedrooms to house the whole family. Situated in the suburbs, it was only a short drive from the centre of town. Judging by the clean sandstone bricks, it had only been built within the last thirty or so years.

But Sasuke couldn't help but find this odd. For such an ordinary house, the price was unusually low. Perhaps he was a little paranoid, but he didn't like the way the estate agent grinned a little too wide when the paperwork was complete. There had to be a reason. There was a reason for everything.

"Stop looking so traumatised, baby brother" Itachi's hand clapped onto Sasuke's shoulder. Sasuke scowled when Itachi gave him a gentle smile. "Instead you can put yourself to good use and help with the bags." 

Sasuke didn't answer. 

"Something wrong?" Itachi asked. There was a lilt to his voice. "It's a house, Sasuke. I do believe you've seen a house before, no?" 

"You don't think it's weird?" 

"Hm?" 

"The house, I mean," Sasuke said. "They're selling it dirt cheap. There has to be something wrong with it." 

"So?" Itachi shrugged. "I didn't see anything wrong when I viewed it. I'm just grateful that we managed to find somewhere affordable." 

"Exactly. It just makes you wonder why It's been up for sale for so long." 

Itachi shook his head. "Don't be so negative, Sasuke." 

There was a grunt, and Sasuke turned to see their mother attempting to lug a suitcase from the back of the car. When her eyes met Sasuke's she huffed. "Be a lamb, Sasuke, and help me rather than just standing there. I'm breaking my back over here." 

Sasuke had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. The bags weren't as heavy as she made them out to be. Even so, he walked over to the car and lifted the suitcase out with ease before putting it on the pavement. Itachi sauntered past him to help the movers carry a refrigerator from the back of the van. 

Despite how much Itachi brushed it off, Sasuke wasn't sure about this house. As he stared at the blank windows opposite him, the back of his neck began to tingle, as though he were being watched. He turned, facing the house once more. But he saw nothing. Just windows that stared emptily back at him. 

* * *

"Get the fuck out of my room." 

The words were quite simple, really. 

Itachi stood, arms folded, blocking the doorway to what should've been _Sasuke's_ bedroom. Sasuke glared, hoping that his brother would get the hint that he wasn't in the mood for this. But it seemed to have no effect. Itachi's eyes glinted as he smiled wryly. 

"Language, Sasuke," Itachi said. "I believe you were taught better than to speak with such vulgarities." 

Sasuke ignored him. "This room is mine." 

"Is it?" 

"I put my bag in here earlier." 

Itachi's smile widened, revealing the creamy tip of a canine. "Ah, yes" he said. "I saw your bag before, but I thought you would be happier in the other room. It's so much more spacious, plenty of room for all of your books. I went ahead and moved your bag in there for you." 

"The other one is a girls room," Sasuke hissed. 

"Who said that it was a girls room? It's just a room." 

"The walls are _pink_ , Itachi. I'm not sleeping in a pink room." 

"Gender stereotyping, little brother," Itachi replied, shaking his head, "is not a flattering trait. You'll never find a girlfriend with that kind of ignorance. Pink is merely a shade in the spectrum. At your age, I would've thought you'd have some maturity by now." 

Sasuke bit back a curse. He made a move to barge past Itachi, but the door was slammed in his face. When he heard a chuckle from the other side of the door, he pounded his fist against it. The doorframe shook, and a few flakes of paint drifted to the carpet. 

_Goddammit_ , he thought. 

Seconds later, he heard his mother yell up the stairs. "Sasuke! We've only just got here. If you break the doors you'll be the one to fix them!" 

"I know," he muttered, heading down the hallway to the bedroom that he seemed to have been cursed with. It needed re-decorating as soon as possible. There was no way he was going to live in a pink bedroom during his three years at Konoha University. 

Granted, the room was fairly spacious. Aside from his small bed and his desk, there was one large window with an dusty pair of cream curtains that looked like they were left behind from the previous owner. There was more than enough room to fit all of his books, even if he had no bookshelf to keep them in. Just as Itachi had said, his rucksack had been oh-so-kindly dumped in the centre of the floor. 

"Asshole", he hissed, dragging the rucksack into the corner. 

Despite his protests, the room itself wasn't actually too bad. But the walls were a different matter. They were painted a dull, candyfloss pink that reminded Sasuke of a fairground. It would have been fine if he were a ten year old girl, but he wasn't. However, the colour of the walls wasn't the only issue. The plaster had crumbled in places, as though something had been thrown against it. It was a disturbing thought, considering that the pink paint suggested that the room once belonged to a child. 

Just looking at the patches of crumbled plaster made his stomach churn. 

He cracked open the window for the sake of fresh air before stepping out into the hallway. Beneath the hall carpet, the floorboards creaked under his feet. One by one, he opened each door he came across, taking note of exactly where the bathroom was so that he didn't accidentally walk into a cupboard whilst searching for the shower. The house was a lot smaller than their last house. Definitely smaller. There were only six rooms in total, and the living room and kitchen could even be considered as one, as the downstairs of the house was open-plan. 

He grabbed a set of clean linen from one of his mother's carefully organised bags of household items, and headed back to his room to make his bed. He reached his bedroom door, only to pause. 

The hallway was darker than it was before. It was late noon and the sun still poured through the windows. And yet there was a patch There was a patch of darkness pooling around his bedroom door. 

His heart pounded as a jolt of fear surged down his spine. The shadow wasn't his. It wasn't even human shaped. But the longer he stared at it, the more his gut urged him that something was very, very wrong here. 

The hairs on his arms stood on end as the air took a sudden dip in temperature. The skin on his shoulders tingled once again. The folded linen slipped from his hands and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" 

Sasuke's heart leaped. His breath snagged.

Only when the familiar cynicism of the voice clicked in his brain, did he felt his pulse begin to slow. Turning his head, he saw Itachi standing a few feet away. There was a moment of silence before Itachi raised an eyebrow. "You look like an idiot, standing in the hall like that." 

Normally, Sasuke would throw a witty comeback at his brother. But he felt as though his voice was locked away. Somehow, the thought of arguing with Itachi seemed irrelevant. 

"Sasuke?" Itachi took a step closer. His brows were drawn and all traces of amusement or banter had drained out of his expression. "Sasuke, has something happened?" 

Sasuke parted his lips. He tried to force a word out. Any word. He just needed to say something. But even the atmosphere around him felt denser. Thicker. As if the air had turned to iron, sinking to the bottom of his lungs. 

"Sasuke, are you alright? Speak to me." 

Itachi placed a hand on Sasuke's forearm, and at once, Sasuke could breathe again. The feeling of Itachi's hand on his arm seemed to break the trance that he was in, and for a minute, he just stared at his brother, bewildered. 

"Itachi," he said. "What was that?" 

"Hm?" 

"What just happened? I couldn't move or speak." Sasuke's mind scrambled to retrace his steps. "I was just downstairs with Mother, and I came up again to make my bed..." He glanced down to the linen lying at his feet before gingerly reaching to pick it up. "And then there was a shadow? And I couldn't move?" 

"What are you talking about?" Itachi eyed Sasuke warily. "You were downstairs, with Mother, and then there was a shadow?" 

Sasuke swallowed. He knew how it sounded. But it was the truth. Surely Itachi had felt it too? 

"Whatever, baby brother." Itachi muttered, stepping around him. 

Apparently not. 

Itachi only took two steps before something seemed to catch his eye. He reached up and tapped the broken light bulb above them. "Ah, I guess this needs replacing. The bulb must've worn out." 

And then Sasuke felt the full weight of his stupidity sink onto his shoulders. 

He felt like kicking himself. Of course the light bulb had just worn out. It happened all the time, to millions of people every day. 

_Itachi was right; you're an idiot._

Behind him, Itachi slunk down the stairs, probably to help their mother with unpacking their belongings. His parents, especially his father, would scold him if he wasn't also downstairs helping out. 

With a low hiss, he entered his room to grab a book. He didn't feel right not having one with him, even if he didn't necessarily get to read it. On the journey he'd found himself nose deep in Kafka's _The Trial_ , only after several hours he found it increasingly more difficult to read without getting travel sick. If he remembered correctly, the book was in his rucksack, which last time he checked, was in the corner of the room. 

It took him a few seconds to locate it, but when he did, his breath hitched. 

Slumped against the bed frame, his rucksack was unzipped and ravaged. On the floor, he saw his mp3, his wallet, headphones, a bottle of water, his raincoat – no longer folded neatly – and an old poloroid that he bought several years ago at a car boot sale. When his eyes came to rest on his book, he frowned. The book lay open with the top corner of the page folded into a makeshift bookmark. 

_Itachi_ , he told himself. _This is Itachi's doing._

All thoughts of his brother were brushed away when his neck began to tingle once more. Something warm and moist brushed the skin of his ear. Something not unlike a human breath. 

He turned, eyes wide. But there was nothing. Only the cream curtain swaying in the breeze of the open window.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm back. I'm trying to get my mojo back, as one might have seen in the update I posted on the original version of this story, before I deleted the original story altogether. Yes, I deleted the whole thing. I didn't want any misunderstandings about there being two versions, one original and one edited. So I'm just going to rewrite the fic from scratch. I know that this newer version is far from perfectly written, but I hope it's an improvement. Let me know :)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

 _Fingers pale, toes blue,_

 _under the blossom she stands._

 _Spring is long since gone._

* * *

Chapter Two

Sasuke scowled as he gripped his phone. Itachi had some explaining to do. A lot of explaining. As he woke up earlier than morning, he nearly crushed his phone like a cola can in his fist. When Itachi had relocated his rucksack, he had gone the extra mile and changed Sasuke's alarm from the default alarm to that of a rooster call. Itachi had also made sure to leave for work early, leaving Sasuke to massage circles into his bruising ribs from having fallen out of bed.

Unlike Sasuke who was just starting his degree in Literature, Itachi taught Religious Studies and Philosophy at High School level, and had earned himself a job at Konoha High. Sasuke liked to think that Itachi had left early as it was his first day in the job, but he knew better. The bastard disappeared before Sasuke could throttle him.

 _Wise decision._

The first teaching week at Konoha University didn't start until Monday, meaning that he had three days to figure out how to get around campus without looking like a lost child.

"Sasuke!" his mother called from downstairs. "Your breakfast is on the table! It's been made with effort and love, so if you leave it to go cold I'll be furious."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Coming!" he yelled. He pushed himself out of bed, pulling up his sweatpants where they'd slid down in the night.

When he reached the door something caught his eye.

Two sets of initials had been engraved into the flaking layers of white paint.

S.H + K.I

Sasuke was certain that they hadn't been there the day before. He definitely would have seen them. But they were there, just the same. The indentations were crudely carved, and the initials either belonged to two young people in a superficial relationship, or the carver had an unrequited crush on someone.

 _Annoying_.

He brushed past them and made his way downstairs. Anywhere that he couldn't see the stupid little marks of puppy love. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that irritated him to this extent. Perhaps it was because on top of re-painting pink room, he would have to paint the doorframe as well. Or perhaps it was because the sight of them made his skin tingle with the pattering of spiders' legs.

* * *

Ino threw on her leather jacket and stared at her reflection. There was a splodge of cherry red lipstick on her tooth, which she wiped away with her sleeve. Red lipstick had always felt too risky, too dangerous, and almost out of habit her hand itched to grab her favourite sugar pink lip stain. But she wouldn't. The old version of herself would have worn the pink. This time, she was different. She was a New Ino, and New Ino always wore red.

She turned and looked at her new room at Konoha University. To be frank, it looked like a prison cell when she had first walked in, and Ino had to remind herself that this was typical of student accommodation. After making her bed with new purple, orange, and magenta linen, and covering the walls with posters of Foo Fighters and The Gorillaz, it felt comfortable. No longer dull and drab, but homely, and New Ino was going to love it.

Like most other students, she'd arrived at her accommodation a few days before Freshers Week. She planned to wander across the campus and find the buildings where her lectures would take place. Only, she wasn't really discovering. Before her family moved to Suna when she was seventeen, Ino had lived in Konoha as a child, and she remembered the city like an old friend—

 _Dangerous train of thought._

She shook off the thought. No, the city was a _new_ friend, because New Ino had new friends. Old friends were all in the past that she had left behind when her family moved away. She refused to live in the past anymore, so making new friends was a must have. That, she decided, would be her goal for her first day; to make one friend.

Old Ino would've tried to land herself a potential boyfriend, but that no longer mattered to her. A smile flickered across her lips as she strode out the door.

* * *

Sasuke regretted commuting rather than applying for student accommodation. He hadn't realised that it was a mistake until he found himself hauling a rusty reel mower across the front lawn.

Because he was young and strong, Sasuke was suddenly responsible for all the DIY and heavy lifting that Itachi was 'too busy' to do. When he finished his breakfast that he'd found sitting on the counter that morning – scrambled eggs that would've tasted better with sliced tomatoes – his mother kindly ordered him to get dressed and mow the front lawn. Out of desperation, he looked to his father sitting opposite him at the kitchen table but received nothing but a stern look, and a command to do as he was told. And that was that. Fugaku, his father always had the last word. No amount of Sasuke's infuriation would change that.

 _Just think of the money you save_ , he thought as he tried to ignore the elderly woman in the house opposite who was watching him through her bedroom window. He shuddered as he remembered how she had adjusted her glasses to get a better look.

To make matters worse, a group of girls around his own age, were strolling along the pavement in front of his house.

"Look at that eye-candy!" One whispered excitedly. The way she sneakily pointed to him and giggled didn't escape him. He gritted his teeth, telling himself to deal with it.

Another with bright red hair blushed and stared at him, mumbling to herself, "he's sweating…and he's exhausted…and he's so filthy." She licked her lips and pushed her red rimmed glasses up her nose. "…I want him" she whispered as her friends pulled her away.

Finally alone on the front lawn, he shivered as a breeze ran past. He scowled, repeatedly running the mower over a stubborn patch of dandelions. All he wanted was to finish mowing the lawn so that he could go back inside, away from the eyes of fangirls and the old woman who was still staring at him through her window.

When the long grass began to jam the mower, Sasuke felt like throwing the thing over the fence. He was close to doing exactly this, if it weren't for the car that drove past at that moment. Or more specifically, the person driving it. He raised his eyes when he heard the engine, and found his gaze locked with that of a boy. The eyes were cold. Hard. And they met his with confusion at first, and then with something else that he couldn't put his finger on.

However the moment lasted no more than several seconds before the boy drove off, his face disappearing within the fur lining of his hood.

* * *

Ino was lost. She was supposed to know the area like the back of her hand, having grown up in Konoha. And yet she'd still managed to get herself lost.

"For fuck's sake." She was standing on a pavement. On her left was the main road, and on her right, a large park stretched until bicycle paths met a line of trees. "I swear the universe hates me," she said.

She was still technically on campus and she could always just ask for directions. But that would mean going back to her room, and she hadn't made a friend yet. Aside from apologising for bumping into people, she hadn't even managed to speak to anyone.

A year ago, she would have cried or flirted with the nearest boy she could find just so that she wouldn't be alone. She would have dressed up and turned up alone at a nightclub, because her friends said that she was confident, and going alone to a nightclub was something that confident girls do. New Ino could be confident too. Confident in a different way than before. She forced a grin.

 _Come on, girl, let's go make that friend._

She went and sat in one of the university cafés, and waited for someone to find her interesting and want to be friends with her, or at least talk to her. At every person who walked in through the door, she'd smiled. To every student who walked past the front window, she smiled. Even to the damn barista, she smiled a cherry lipstick smile, and overlooked the way he frowned because he probably thought that she was a strange one.

"Excuse me miss," he asked her when he came over to her table. "Did you want to order something else?"

She looked at the three empty cups on her table for two, and then at the barista who stared at her blankly. He was pasty with dark eyes and dark hair, and a small part of Ino regretted smiling at him in the first place.

She rested her chin on her hand. "Do you have friends?"

His brows knitted together in confusion. "I don't think so." From his trouser pocket, he pulled out a black notebook. "Is that a new drink they've come up with now? I've never heard of it..."

"It doesn't matter," she muttered, shaking her head. She didn't notice when the movement caused her favourite hair pin to fall on the floor. "Forget I said anything."

Ino put a handful of money on the table without bothering to count it, and all but ran out of the café. As the door swung behind her, the other customers stared at her abandoned table. On the other hand, the barista examined the money she'd left.

"She gave me too much…" he mumbled quietly. He was about to take the money to the till when he spotted something silver lying next to his shoe. "And she left this…" He picked up the hair pin. It was a simple design – a silver bird with a lilac rhinestone eye. Nothing particularly special. Nevertheless, he slipped it into his pocket because just maybe, there was a chance that she'd come back.

* * *

As evening approached, Sasuke grew more and more exhausted. His whole day had been spent painting fence panels, organising their belongings which were to go into storage, and helping his mother clean.

Itachi had come home to see Sasuke holding a damp cloth with his head buried into the cupboard under the stairs. Sasuke struggled to contain his relief when his older brother took the cloth from his hand and finished off what he had started.

His father grumbled from the couch, commenting that Itachi shouldn't be wasting his time on menial tasks. Much to Sasuke's surprise, Itachi didn't seem to notice their father's comments. Usually, Itachi would defeat Fugaku's criticism with logic.

 _Perhaps he's had a bad day_ , Sasuke thought. _Maybe he's just too tired to deal with dad._

Dinner came and went. The food tasted strange, but Sasuke didn't know whether that was due to his own weariness or his mother's change in recipe. Either way, she insisted on clearing up the dishes, her reason being that "he had worked so hard". He headed off to his room, hoping to catch some quiet.

He stopped in the doorway of his room when he saw the initials again. They existed. They were there. It felt good to confirm it in his mind, to know that he wasn't going mad.

Sighing, he collapsed onto his bed, trying to forget all about how easily they invaded his mind. Two days. There were only two days left until he could concentrate on his degree and at least have an excuse to be away from the house and focus on something new and different, rather than focusing on painting fences. He wanted to explore, to travel the world and visit places that he'd only read about in books. He wanted to stumble through cities that thrived with nightlife and drunken laughter. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate being here with his family, but he wanted change.

Until he was free and rich enough to travel, the stories in his books would have to suffice.

He grabbed his book from the bedside table and spread himself out like a starfish on his mattress. Two pages, three pages he read of Kafka, until a knock at his door brought him back down to reality.

Itachi entered without waiting for an answer. He leant against the foot of Sasuke's bed. Sasuke deliberately held the book in front of his face. He didn't want to acknowledge Itachi. He just wanted to stay in the world of The Trial. He couldn't see much beyond the creamy pages in front of him, but he knew that Itachi was watching him, lips hinting at a smile.

"What do you want?" Sasuke asked.

"Just checking up on my little brother."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

If he didn't know Itachi as well as he did, he would have thought that the question was rhetorical. How could he possibly answer? Was he actually okay, or was it all just empty words? Words that he repeated on autopilot day after day, until he didn't recognise the voice that was speaking them.

Itachi raised an eyebrow. "You've been acting odd ever since we came here." He began to pick at the cheap wood of Sasuke's bed frame. "You look scared shitless half the time."

"Itachi." Sasuke's voice was low and exhausted. "I already told you that I'm fine. And I know that you're only checking up on me because _she_ asked you to."

His older brother stopped picking at the bed, and there was heavy pause before Itachi answered. "It's not polite to refer to one's parent with pronouns."

"I'm trying to read. Either say something meaningful or get out," he groaned, finally taking the book away and facing Itachi for the first time since he entered. If Itachi had been smiling before, his smile had disappeared. Sasuke couldn't help but notice that his brother's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his forearms were wet. "You washed the dishes?" Sasuke asked, frowning.

Itachi tilted his head. "Well, yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"No, no. It's just..." Sasuke shook his head, "she offered so I didn't think..."

Itachi stared at him for a minute. His gaze was hard. Calculating. "Whatever you say, Sasuke," he muttered when he finally left.

Several hours later, Sasuke's book slipped through his fingers as he succumbed to sleep. The book dropped to the floorboards where the pages continued to turn as though they were being touched by a translucent hand.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry if nothing much happens in this chapter. I just don't like it when things are rushed for the sake of plot and readers barely get to understand the character's personalities first (even though technically we all already know the characters courtesy of Kishimoto).


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

 _Lines that run across_

 _His skin. Her line it dances_

 _a smile on her throat._

* * *

Chapter Three

He couldn't believe it. It was bizarre. Like something out of a movie, only this was not a movie. He blinked once, twice, three times, just to make sure he wasn't half-asleep. But there it was, scribbled at the top of the open page of his book, which had been left on the floor.

 _'Please stop unfolding the page corners. It means I have to find my place again, but if you insist, then at least have the decency buy me a bookmark.'_

Itachi? No. It couldn't have been him. Itachi was not the type of person to sneak into another's bedroom in the dead of night just to read a book. If Itachi fancied reading one of Sasuke's books, he would just take the book without asking. Neither his mother nor his father were avid readers – he was known affectionately by his mother as the family bookwork. So then who had the audacity to write in his book?

And then there was that last line…

 _'If you insist, then at least have the decency to buy me a bookmark.'_

Decency.

As if this person had every right to be rooting through his belongings. As if he was the one in the wrong here. He sneered at the words, dismissing them as nothing more than a prank on his brother's part. It was unlike Itachi, as he had already figured. But who else could it possibly be?

It's too early in the morning for something like this, he thought, shaking his head and sitting up. With a groan, he rubbed his eyes and tried to flatten his hair which was ruffled and disturbed from bed. His lips twitched. Itachi was quite the prankster. He would have to confront him about it later.

* * *

Naruto bounced on the balls of his feet as he banged several times on his new neighbour's door. This was it. He was going to find friends, close friends, enjoy what was left of his adolescence whilst getting a real education, and then when he landed himself a well-paying job, he would be unstoppable. The world hadn't exactly favoured him in the past, but everything had changed now. He could finally look forward and make the most of it. For the first time, he could _live._

He heard some scuffles and a muffled grunt before the door cracked open to reveal a sleepy looking boy with what appeared to be a brown pineapple resting on his head.

 _No Naruto_ , he thought after a second glance, _that's his hair._

"Huh?" The pineapple boy yawned, as he took in Naruto's toothy grin and third-hand sneakers. "What do you want?"

Naruto scratched the back of his head. "Heh…Naruto Uzumaki! Nice to meet ya!"

Pineapple blinked, his face blank. Then he frowned slightly. "Shikamaru. And what the fuck are you doing at my door at eight in the morning on a Saturday?"

"I kinda wanted to meet my new neighbours, since ya know, we're all gonna have to get along somehow."

Naruto shivered under his brand new t-shirt that Jiraiya had bought him months back. In celebrating Naruto's acceptance into Konoha University, Jiraiya clapped Naruto on the shoulder and told him to pick any item of clothing he liked. The gesture had meant so much, that Naruto saved his new t-shirt for when he started at University.

Pineapple – now named Shikamaru – scowled, and Naruto braced himself for disappointment. But then the scowl broke into a tired smile, and Shikamaru opened his door fully for the other boy to step in.

"Troublesome" Naruto heard him mutter under his breath. But that didn't matter, because the word had been spoken with more amusement than hatred. And it filled Naruto head to toe with relief.

 _Things are going to be okay._

* * *

 _'Sasuke Dear, I was wondering if you could find it in you to help your poor mother, and find a space for this box in the attic whilst me and your father are busy at work. Thank you for being Mama's Sugar Pie xx'_

Sasuke's eyes shifted from his mother's purple writing on floral memo paper, to the cardboard box on the kitchen worktop. Scrawled on the side in black marker pen, it was labelled as 'Christmas Decorations'.

He really didn't want to have to do it. Every inch of him protested against the idea of shuffling around in the attic with its dust and dead bluebottles. But the box simply stared at him, waiting. An image of his mother's dark eyes – his own eyes – hardening into steel, flashed in the back of his mind for no longer than a second. He shuddered

No. He had no choice. As much as he loved his mother, the woman was terrifying when she wanted to be, and like most Uchiha women, she had a nasty alter-ego. And sometimes, whenever he had done something that had upset her, he would find carefully placed long black hairs in his dinner. Hairs much too long to belong to him, his brother, or his father. Hairs that would never appear in anyone else's roast potatoes.

He had to admit, his mother could be crazy with her revenge at times – a trait that Itachi had no doubt inherited.

Within ten minutes time, he found himself on a ladder peering into the attic. The light switch on the wall did not work, and so he couldn't see a thing beyond where the light from below brushed the silhouettes of old lamps and boxes. Boxes. Boxes everywhere. Whichever direction he turned his head, more black squares appeared. Were all these boxes from his family? Sasuke didn't remember seeing quite this many boxes in the moving van.

He took a breath, but his chest heaved and spluttered. He felt thick dust clinging to the inside of his throat. As his eyes adjusted to the blackness, he saw the dust swirling, falling from the roof like ash. An unusual smell crept up into his nose; Damp, mould and a tinge of something indescribable. Something like perfume or fabric conditioner, but it was gone as quickly as he had sensed it. Sasuke decided, after wiping the dust from his lips, that from then on he would breathe through his mouth. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend not to feel the strain on his lungs.

He stepped, feet padding carefully as the floorboards creaked under his weight. His arms ached a little from the weight of the small box. He could only wonder what kind of Christmas decorations would weigh as much as a baby hippopotamus. However, the thought was dismissed when the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He searched for a space to dump the stupid box and go.

It was easy to ignore the thick air clogging his lungs, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to ignore the burn of invisible eyes on his back.

* * *

Ino leant her entire body weight against the door to her student accommodation building. After her second unsuccessful day of being new Ino, she'd considered giving herself a much needed makeover and hitting one of the inner-city clubs. But then memories of a certain person had melted the smile on her face. So she opted for the next best thing; a shopping spree. She'd grabbed her red polka dot wallet and her handbag, then hit the high street.

However, her shopping high came rushing straight back down when she realised that she'd left her car – a birthday present from her father – back at home, fifty miles south from Konoha University, and that she'd have to haul her winnings back to her dorm. But the door was as heavy as wet sandbags, and she couldn't open the damn thing with her hands full of shopping bags. It was difficult enough punching in the security code, but the door itself was a nightmare.

 _What the hell is this thing made of?_ Ino thought, pressing her shoulder into it and pushing as hard as she could. _Reinforced steel and bulletproof glass?_

"You look like you could use a hand with that door."

She jumped, almost dropping her bags. Behind her was a scrawny boy who beamed at her with eyes bluer than her own. With one hand, he scratched his mop of blonde hair which was in dire need of a good brush. Or a good yank, since it stuck up in tufts like it was trying to get as far as possible from his scalp. Beside him, another boy stood with his hands in his jacket pockets, watching her with clear disregard.

"I'm fine…really." She said to the blonde boy. He was smiling at her, unlike the other boy, and so she could only assume that it was he who spoke to her.

"Che. Clearly you're not." The rude one muttered.

Ino's eyes narrowed. She examined him piece by piece, from his ridiculous ponytail and his pierced ears, to the way his body slouched as if simply standing was too exhausting of a task. She tossed her fringe from her eyes and looked back to the blonde with a saccharine smile.

"Don't mind me. I'll be out of you way in just a second."

With more force than ever before, she continued to throw her side against the door, determined to prove the rude ponytail boy wrong. She was fine. She wouldn't bother these people. Old Ino would've given in easily, plastering on a flirty smile and some suggestive comments, but not now. Three tries, and the door finally caved, slowly opening under her weight.

 _There!_

Her lips curved into a devious grin. Filled with the confidence of new Ino, she spun on her heel with a winning grin. Only she was thrown off by a whiff of sweat and cigarettes.

There he stood, close enough that she could feel his breath against the top of her ear. His lips tilted at one corner and his eyes amusedly stared into hers. He was holding the door open with one hand.

"I could've done that myself!"

He snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure. That's exactly why you've been so successful so far."

Ino's comeback froze on her tongue. She glowered, hating the way that he had raised one eyebrow at her. She hated his stupid hairstyle, his poor dress sense, and his cool attitude as if trying to earn a degree was nothing but child's play to him. She hated the way that he smelled like cheap fabric conditioner, sweat, and cigarettes. But most of all she hated the way that his eyes – a deep brown, almost black, in colour – searched hers with the smallest flicker of something close to kindness. No. He couldn't be kind. She didn't want him to be, because he was rude to her, and because she hated every part of him; Ino didn't like playing the villain.

"Hey! Let's be friends here, okay?"

Ino snapped out of her trance to see the blonde boy holding both of his hands up in surrender. His eyes darted to and fro between herself and the rude ponytail guy. She said nothing, but watched as the blonde boy glanced between the two of them. His smile was like the sun.

"Here, tell us what floor you're on and we'll help you carry those bags."

"How do I know you're not just a pair of creepy guys who want to know where I'm staying?"

The blonde's smile flickered like a candle on the verge of blowing out. He patched it up again before it became too obvious. But his efforts were in vain; she noticed it anyway. "I just want to make friends, ya know? I don't know anyone here except Shikamaru, and I only met the guy this morning.

"Ino's expression softened. _Me too,_ she thought, _I want some too…_ The words slipped past her lips before she could stop them. "Fourth floor, room B."

Behind her, the ponytail guy's expression changed. Whether it brightened or darkened, she couldn't understand. He was a book that couldn't be translated. However, the blonde's eyes scrunched up in delight and his smile grew so wide, Ino was afraid that his ears would disappear.

"Woop! You're on the same floor as us! What's your name? I'm Naruto Uzumaki, the one and only!"

"Ino Yamanaka." She answered, "and I'm going to take a leap and assume that _that"_ she nodded her head at the ponytail guy "is Shikamaru?"

He rolled his eyes, fingers twitching toward a packet of cigarettes that peeked out of his jeans pocket. "Shikamaru Nara."

 _Cigarettes...disgusting habit,_ she scoffed before sliding into the entrance hall of the building. She hated his slouch and the way he looked at everything as though it were below him. But when Naruto insisted that they help with her bags and he muttered "troublesome woman…" under his breath, Ino kind of liked the way that his eyes betrayed his words.

* * *

Sasuke lay sprawled out on his bed. A strand of his hair had fallen into his eye and managed to tangle itself in his eyelashes. It blocked his vision and stung his eye. But he didn't bother to remove it. The effort of simply raising a hand…no, a finger, to brush it away was too strenuous on his muscles. When did he become so tired?

There was the sound of a dog yapping outside, mingled with the clatter of plates downstairs as somebody – either his mother or Itachi – was washing the dinner dishes. Dinner was an awkward affair. Since Sasuke had arrived home earliest, he took it upon himself to prepare dinner. His mother seemed grateful, although the meal was stunted as Itachi failed to acknowledge anybody. His attention was reserved solely for his food, and he did not speak a word.

Suddenly, something crashed into his window with a bang.

Sasuke sat up, his reverie broken and his heart pounding. He looked to the window, only there was nothing splattered against it. He'd been expecting blood and feathers from a dead bird, but the glass was spotless. The window was neither smashed nor cracked, but he slipped off the bed and went to inspect the damage anyway. Gazing out of the window, he was surprised to see nothing. Not a person or a footprint.

 _What the actual fuck?_ He thought, a frown marring his face. _There isn't even a bird…_

Downstairs, the sound of plates being washed continued. They hadn't heard it, Sasuke realised with disbelief. The noise had certainly been loud enough to echo past the floorboards and through the walls, so there was no way that his family hadn't heard it. He waited one minute, two minutes, three minutes, yet nobody came to investigate.

Stepping away from the window, he was willing to pass it off as nothing.

And then his steps wavered.

His eyes widened, and invisible spiders crawled along the palm of his left hand. There on his pillow, as if it had been there all along, sat a spiral bound notebook.

A strained chuckle forced its way out of his throat, as he stared in astonishment and terror at the bright purple cover. That wasn't his notebook. It was not his notebook. It most certainly wasn't Itachi's – and his brother would dropkick him for even so much as insinuating the idea that he would possess something so gaudy. And it couldn't possibly have been his mother's; she hated the colour purple with a passion.

But what horrified Sasuke the most was the fact that he had been lying with his head in that exact spot, and he was pretty sure that he didn't have anything tucked under his pillow. Where did it come from? Where could it have come from?

 _Nowhere..._

* * *

She was crouched in the corner of the room, staring at him with desperation. She'd seen the look on his face when he first spotted the notebook. It was the same look that everyone had when she tried to reach out to them. The same horror, the same repulsion.

 _Mother was right; the world is filled with monsters, and I am one of them._

"Please" she whispered. Her voice was whipped away, as if it were nothing more than thread in a blizzard "please take it."

Of course, he couldn't hear her. Not right now. But when he had first entered the house, with his typical messed up family, she couldn't take her eyes off him. He was different. He had a certain energy that the previous owners before him had lacked.

She was drawn to him because he was a rag-doll. She'd had a rag doll many years ago, and although she couldn't remember exactly what it looked like, she remembered its seams falling apart time and time again, and pricking her fingers when she sewed them up. This boy was just like her rag doll – skin torn so many times that his stitches had formed scars. They were all over him like ivy. Ugly white scars, twisting and wrapping all over the planes his body.

She did not want him to run away like the others. No matter what, he had to stay.

"Please" she tried once more, as he took a hesitant step forward. Not toward the door, but to the bed, to his pillow, to her notebook. "Please."

* * *

His skin prickled as his feet inched toward the bed. He didn't know what he was doing. Surely logic would tell him to get the hell out of his bedroom, and he almost did. But then he heard it.

That small voice...No, not a voice. It was thin and wispy in the air, like a spiders thread. A spider's thread that almost resembled a word. Almost.

He was certain that he had lost his mind entirely as his shins hit his bed frame with a small creak. That thin thread had appeared again. A pearly spectre that was not at all ominous, but beautiful in an unearthly way. And he was drawn to it. Pulled like it was a marionette string.

 _You've lost yourself,_ a voice in his head whispered. _You've completely lost it._

He thought of the white lines decorating the pale skin of his arms. _I lost myself ages ago. It doesn't matter anymore._

He placed his fingers on the purple notebook. Holding his breath, he flipped the cover over. A shiver ran across his shoulders as words bled into the blank page.

 **Hello, Sasuke.**

* * *

A/N: I would have uploaded this chapter much earlier, only I had some problems with lots of the files on my usb becoming corrupted for some reason. It took me a really long time to find another copy of the original fanfiction so that I could continue editing it. It's like the universe hates me.

There's also the fact that I have another story on the go as well, and it's difficult to write both because when I write, I tend to get sucked into whatever story I'm writing, like I'm living and breathing that story. It's difficult to go between this story and the other one because they're both so vastly different.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know in the comments what you thought xx


End file.
